Brokeness and Forgiveness
by Ghanaperu
Summary: A oneshot between Allan and Robin.  No idea where this came from, but here it is. I don't know what season this would be from, only that it is definitely after the beginning of season two.  Forgive me for the title, I just couldn't think of anything else.


**Forgiveness**

Allan's bright blue eyes were filled with fear as he shrank away from Robin's murderous glare.

"Robin, I'm sorry!" he pleaded. Robin shook his head in disgust.

"You betrayed us for coins, Allan. Coins! And you will give up Marian to them. I cannot risk it."

"No, Robin! No! I wouldn't!" Allan was desperate for Robin to believe him. "Just trust me." _Oops, wrong thing to say_ he thought as he watched Robin's eyes darken in hatred.

"Trust you? Trust you? You betrayed us!" Robin burst out in disbelief. Allan lowered his eyes in shame. He slumped down in guilt as Robin easily caught him. Robin punched him in the gut. As he gasped and bent over from the pain, already Robin was continuing. Allan felt the blows rained down on him with a sort of detached mentality – as if it were someone else that Robin was so angry with. He closed his eyes as a wooden stool cracked over his head, and then he was shoved up over a table. His limp hands groped for something to catch himself with, and found a knife. He grabbed it in desperation, then dropped it in despair. _I deserve this._ he thought as Robin threw him to the floor and slapped his head back and forth against the cold stones. He let himself go limp and accepted the pain. And then suddenly, it stopped. Robin's knife was at his throat, and he knew he was going to die. He blinked in resignation, but his mouth had not yet caught up with his mind.

"Please, don't kill me," he begged. _I am a fool. A stupid fool. I cannot even let myself die when I want to._ he thought ironically. And yet Robin's hand was still on the knife, still against his throat. And Allan could still see the indecision written plainly in Robin's eyes. Angry though he might be, he was still reluctant to kill. For a moment, Allan dared to hope that he might be spared, and then he watched Robin's muscles tighten in determination, and he closed his eyes, bracing for the killing slash. After a few moments had passed, and nothing had happened, he dared to open them again. Robin was sitting back, the knife on the floor. _Wait, are those tears? From Robin? _ Allan furrowed his brow in awkward confusion. He sat up gingerly and winced in pain, wrapping his arms around his gut.

"Robin?" he ventured tentatively.

"Just leave." Robin sounded like the broken man he was. Allan's rational mind was telling him to get out of here while he could, before Robin changed his mind; but the good man in him wouldn't let him just leave.

"Robin, I'm sorry. You have no idea…"

"Just go now, before you can't!" Robin interrupted savagely.

"...how much I regret it." Allan finished weakly. They sat there in silence for a minute. Finally Robin looked up and fixed his anguished eyes on Allan. Robin shook his head slightly.

"Why? Allan, why did you do it? And how can I trust you not to betray us all? I…" he gulped. "I could not live if you took Marian away from me."

Allan dropped his eyes. He couldn't bear that tortured gaze, reminding him of the pain he'd caused Robin, and the Gang, by leaving. He couldn't bear the accusations in that one question. He couldn't bear the love he felt from the knowledge that the knife was on the floor. He couldn't bear the feel of his neck still connected to his head, and his body. He couldn't bear the shame that Robin was a good enough man to let a traitor live, while he himself was not even strong enough to resist being that traitor. He couldn't bear the implications of that aching question – _why? – _because he had no answer. No answer to give to the broken man in front of him, whose tortured eyes wanted, no, needed, to know that his love would not be taken away from him. No answer to give to his own heart, wanting to know what it was that was worth giving up family for. No answer. There was just no answer, and so Allan, for once in his life, said nothing. He just bowed his shoulders in defeat.

Robin himself did not know how the knife came to end up on the floor, or how it was that he was giving _**that traitor**_ a chance to explain. He vaguely wondered why he didn't just grab the knife and kill the man now. But _**that traitor**_ was saying nothing: not explaining himself, not blaming anyone else, not joking about it: just saying nothing. And Robin couldn't bring himself to kill a man that was so obviously broken. Broken in shame. _ As he well should be!_ his rational side kicked in. And yet….for some reason Robin desperately wanted to give _**that traitor**_ a chance to redeem himself. In spite of himself, he found his willful fingers picking up the discarded knife from the floor.

Allan sat, staring at the cold, gray stones of the floor. And then he saw motion out of the corner of his eye. The knife on the floor disappeared from his vision. _Robin is going to kill me _he thought numbly. And he raised his head to accept the killing blow valiantly. His chin tightened in preparation for the murderous glare of Robin right before the numbing pain of death, but as he lifted his eyes he saw something else. The knife was being offered to him in Robin's outstretched hand, handle first. His eyes flitted to Robin in confusion.

"If you think you deserve to die, do it yourself. I cannot judge you," Robin croaked. Allan's eyes opened wide in shock.

"It may be that you are still a good man, Allan A Dale."

"No, no I am not." Allan shook his head sadly. "I'm not being funny, but a good man doesn't sell out his friends for money." he added bitterly. Robin did not try to correct this statement, but continued holding out the knife. Allan's lip trembled as he waited for the offer to be withdrawn.

Robin looked _**that traitor**_ up and down. He had not realized how much he had already punished himself for his betrayal. _**That traitor's **_ posture of defeat tore at Robin's already shredded heart. He extended the knife farther, practically pressing it into the man's hand. Slowly, Allan's hand wrapped around the handle. He broke down and began to sob quietly. Robin scooted over and gently placed his hand on the man's back.

Allan could not believe that Robin was not killing him, that he was not dead already. He could not accept this offer of forgiveness from the man he had betrayed, and yet Robin was pushing it at him. He could not hold back the tears any longer. They were tears of shame, and guilt, and blame. Tears for all the pain he had caused that could never be undone. Tears for the family he had that he could never get back. Tears of hatred for himself, that he allowed himself to live. And then Robin's hand was on his back, and he hated it because the man was offering forgiveness that he didn't deserve. But some side of himself turned to Robin, needing to ask a question and yet fearing the answer.

"How? How can you forgive me?" Allan's red-rimmed eyes met his leader's intense ones.

"I can't." Robin explained simply, withdrawing his hand. "But I am anyway."

"No, no. Don't. Just kill me." Allan begged softly.

"No." Robin refused. "I cannot. Allan, I forgive you for betraying me." At this declaration of forgiveness, Allan seemed to crumple in front of Robin's eyes. The man just crumpled to the ground. And Robin found his disobedient body moving closer and embracing _**that traitor.**_ And immediately Allan clung to him, holding on as if he was drowning and Robin was his last hope. And although Robin's brain told him he would regret this, he accepted _**that traitor,**_ Allan A Dale, back into his heart.

**I know, totally inplausible. I wasn't even trying to write this, it just came out. So don't judge me based on this. (But some part of me really wishes that the BBC had made a bigger deal of Allan's redemption)… Anyway, please tell me what you think.**


End file.
